


Get Away Ride

by TenTomatoes



Series: Harold's Home for the Technologically Gifted [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Supernatural
Genre: AU where Harold kind of adopted and raised some computer nerds who went on to lead interesting lives, Bond meets Charlie, Car Chases, Gen, Sibling teasing, and learns a little more about his allusive Quartermaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenTomatoes/pseuds/TenTomatoes
Summary: In which Bond needs a ride and it comes in the form of a snarky red head who he is pretty sure is Q's sister, much to his Quartermaster's displeasure.





	Get Away Ride

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't read the first part, Q and Charlie were both basically raised and taught by Harold Finch along with Felicity Smoak and that's all you really need to know

James Bond was in a bit of trouble.

Of course, this wasn’t too out of the ordinary. He was, after all, Bond, James Bond, 007, secret agent serving queen and country, and all those ominous sounding things. Being in a bit of trouble was practically in the job description, right between to being morally questionable and ridiculously good looking.   

However, a license to kill didn’t help much when there wasn’t actually anyone for him to kill. Bond had already blown them all up in a well time explosion that had allowed him to: get the information he needed, put a bullet through the generic mob boss of the week’s head, give Q a minor heart attack, mix himself a decent drink, and still make it out and away from the kill zone with only minor injuries. So, all in all, the mission had been a huge success. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he was now stranded in the middle of an endless and barren desert with no transport out. 

Surprisingly, there hadn’t been a beautiful woman for him to ride off into the sunset with, which was quite horrible, because could have really used one right now. 

“Q,” Bond muttered into his ear bud as he turned it back on. By some miracle he had managed to save it from the explosion, hopefully Q would be distracted enough by that to let Bond of the hook for cutting communications halfway through the mission. “Target is down, intell retrieved. Mind sending some transport to take me home?”

“007, glad to hear you’re still alive,” Q said dryly. By the sound of his repressed annoyance, Bond realized with an internal sigh, that he wasn’t off the hook at all.

“Your worry is appreciated, but I would much prefer that you give me a plane. Deserts aren’t much fun in the middle of the afternoon with the sun blaring down at you from all sides.”

“Who knew the infamous 007 was such a whiner, it’s just a bit of sun.”

“Q, a ride please.” See, he was even being polite. 

“I would but someone keeps destroying their tracking devices,” Q said pointedly. “We don't actually have a private plane following you everywhere you go. Your position was located a few minutes ago and transport has been sent out. It should arrive in several hours.”

“Several. Q, I don't have several hours,” Bond growled but still scanned the sand for any place that could be used for shelter. He could have used the mob base, but that was currently in pieces scatter throughout the sand.

He heard a huff and the sounds of keys clicking rapidly, they were two sounds Bond had come to automatically connect with the new, and if he was being honest every, Q, just like earl gray and horrifying jumpers.

“There’s nothing I can do,” he said.

“Is this because I lost the gun? It’s death was an honorable one.”

“I don't care if you lose a weapon for a good reason, 007. They’re there for your disposal, but throwing it off the roof to knock someone out is not a good reason.” Q was almost hissing. 

“What would have had me do?”

Bond managed to used the leftover parts of the lair to form a small shelter that was just big enough for him to hide from the sand and the sun under.

“Perhaps shoot them?” Q bit out.

Bond rolled his eyes. Somedays he wished Q wasn’t so bloody good at his job. He was a top notch Quartermaster, but Bond really wanted to rough him up a little. Back in the day, 00-agents were feared and revered. Q, apparently hadn’t gotten the memo and treated most 00-agents like they were children. Really, if he was going to go around almost dying every other week to protect England and the world, the least he could ask for was a little respect and a lot less sass. 

“No matter,” Q continued. “There’s still not transportation I can send you. You’re not even supposed to be in that country”

“Why don't I go pick him up?”

Bond grabbed for his stolen gun, shoulders tense, he scanned the desert, straining to see where the new voice had came from. But no one was there. He heard Q’s clicking come to a sudden halt and he realized that the voice had came from the ear piece. 

“Did you honestly jump our connection?” Q said to the voice.

Bond faltered at the tone Q used. He tried to use it to gage the situation but what he drew out didn’t seem to make sense. His Quartermaster sound surprised, but not necessarily confused, he was frustrated, but in a fond way, like when one of the 00’s bring him back a present from whatever country they were in instead of their equipment. Who ever this was, Q knew them. That made Bond relax and slip his gun back in his holder.

“I was just going to check up on you, but then things started to get interesting and I couldn’t stop listening,” the voice said, it was a girl, an American one. 

“Char-.” Q paused and seemed to be collecting himself. “We had a talk about this. You can't interfere, I’d rather not have to disappear because MI6 wants my blood.”

The stranger laughed.

“But then we could be on the run together. Besides, it’s not like I was going to let myself get caught.”

“Q,” Bond cut in. “What is going on?”

“Ah, you’re still on the line.”

“Hello, 007. This is Agent Rowling. You’re situation has been understood and I will arrive at your position in 15 point oh 1 minutes.” Her voice was clip and crisp as though she was actually a soldier, but Bond could hear her smiling over the head set.  

“Like hell you are,” Q said with as much authority as he could. However, Bond could tell that Q knew it wasn’t going to work. 

“Look, Bond,” the voice said addressing him. “Do you want to get out of there now? Or three hours later?”

“Who are you?” he asked. 

Q didn’t seem to be worried by this girl. This girl who had apparently hack into the MI6 system to check on the well being of their Quartermaster. Q seemed completely at ease, but Bond hadn’t survived this long being an agent by being trusting. There was too much unknown about this girl for him to feel safe. 

“My name is Charlie Bradbury,” the voice said without a pause. It’s probably fake. “I’m Q’s wife.”

Bond could proudly claim that not many things could surprise him, he’d seen too much in his life to be shocked by anything normal humans could throw at him. He knew that this was a lie but he couldn’t help but pause for a moment. The idea of the gangly teenage boy of a Quartermaster having a wife was truthfully mind shattering. 

“Is wife too unbelievable? Should I have gone for girlfriend? Significant other? Lab partner in primary school who would watch Dr. Who on the telly as we sip our earl gray and ate jammy dodgers?” Charlie slipped into a British accent half way through. It was quite believable really, if not a bit insulting. 

“Well, the idea of our Quartermaster speaking with other humans is shocking enough, let alone having a wife waiting at home for him.”

Charlie laughed brightly. “He’s lucky to have the cat to keep him company. I have your position, I’ll be there in about 10 minutes. Agent Rowling signing off.”

“Don't think you’re off the hook Charlie. I have a virus with your name on it.”

“Like that’ll scare me, I’m doing you a favor.”

“I’ll tell Harold.”

The girl was silent.

“I’m not afraid of Harold,” she said uncertaintly.

“I already know that he has a special lecture just for this occasion. 2 hours long, four long breaks of silence.” Q sounded much too happy about this. It reminded Bond of the bet going around MI6 if Q was ever going to turn to the dark side. He decided that he had enough evidence to place his bet now and wouldn’t be all that flattering to their dear Quartermaster. Or it could be extremely flattering, depending on if Bond won the bet or not. 

“I’ll be there in a bit. Q we’ll talk later,” Charlie said stiffly. “Rowling out.”

There was a few second of radio silence as Bond mulled the conversation over in his head.

“So, a cat?”

“Never speak of this again and I won’t give you malfunctioning equipment to take into the field.”

“Understood, Quartermaster.” Bond said even as he bit back a laugh.

  
  


As it turned out ‘a bit’ was too long to wait for an escape ride because the Mob boss apparently had friends. Friends who were very disgruntled by the loss of their dear companion. Him or the horde of illegal weapons that had been stored in the base, which was much more likely. As soon as Q had alerted Bond to the oncoming storm of revenge fueled goons, he began to run. He wasn’t sure where he was running because everywhere he looked there was just sand, rocks, and more sand, however, it was either run or face the army single handedly, armed only with handgun and a knife. He decided that running was best.

Bond made it almost a mile without them noticing him but once they did, they started shooting. He grunted as he felt the bullets whiz past his ear and slam into the sand. He was very lucky that no one seemed to know how to shoot a gun properly. It was so pathetic, Bond almost wanted to stop and show them the correct way to aim. Almost. He did want to live after all.

With the sand slapping against his face and the sun blinding his eyes and the bullets stealing his concentration, Bond almost missed the small pin prick of a truck that was driving over the horizon. However, he was James Bloody Bond, so he noticed and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

Charlie was a small woman with a head of bright red hair and the amazing ability to analyze a situation and act accordingly, because when she was 10 feet in front of him she skidded the car to a stop and threw the passenger door open. which let Bond slip in and use that chance to take out one of the drivers in the truck following him. Charlie wheeled the car around and gunned it.

“Hello,” she screamed over the roaring engine. “I’m Charlie.”

“Hello Charlie, I’m James Bond. Do you have any guns.”

Charlie was white knuckling the steering wheel and looked as though she was going to lose her head any second. Still, she managed to look at him with the most incredulous look he’d ever seen on the face of someone currently fearing for their lives. It even beat Q’s look that one time he was forced to take a plane ride with Bond for some onsite hacking.

“No, because I just decided I shouldn’t bring a weapon to meet a secret spy who could kill me with a raw spaghetti noodle,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“Are all you computer types so sarcastic all of the time?” Bond grumbled as he smashed the side window and sent a few shots at the following tucks. He hit one windshield and sent the driver swerving. 

“You could have just rolled down the windows!” Charlie was still yelling. “And excuse me for not being used to driving a truck while we’re being shot at. Sarcasm is a coping method. This looks so much more fun in the movies.”

She reached down next to her and pulled out a very beautiful machine gun.

“Here use this.”

Bond grabbed it and smirked. 

He loved competent people. 

  
  
  


With Charlie expertly crashing them into every obstacle they came near and Bond shooting everything that moved and Q giving them vague direction that got them to the nearest town, they managed to escape the group of men chasing them. Of course, that was only after Charlie drove them off a bridge and Bond shoved them out of the car before they exchanged execution for drowning. He pushed Charlie against the alley wall and made sure to cover her mouth. They stood frozen as they watched the goons report back their untimely deaths and leave, probably to go celebrate with drinks. 

When it was clear they were all gone, Charlie started punching his arm, causing him to release her mouth. She was grinning, her eyes shining bright with excitement and hands shaking from adrenaline.

“Ok, besides almost dying, that was really cool,” she said between gasping breaths. 

Bond grinned back at her and thought about sweeping Charlie into his arms and kissing her. It was what he always seemed to do when a beautiful woman managed to save his life and Charlie certainly was beautiful woman, behind the baggy avengers shirt and cargo shorts. But he decided that it wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t know her relationship with Q and kissing his sister, if Bond’s guess was right, wouldn’t get him that exploding pen he wanted. Besides, Bond had a pretty good idea that Bond wasn’t her type anyway. Bond was every straight woman’s type, but Charlie hadn’t looked at him twice in the way he was used to. 

So, instead he just smiled and started to plan what to do next.

“Charlie, 007? Are you alright?” Q’s voice cut in, sounding worried in a way that he never was when it was just Bond in trouble.

“We’re here Q,” Bond said and he could practically hear the tension slip form Q’s shoulders. 

“Alright then, that’s good,” he said crisply. “Now, some matters need to be addressed. 007 I booked you a train that will take you to the nearest city, where a plane will be waiting for you. Train leaves in an hour. And Charlie, you can hear me, right?”

“Affirmative.”

“What are you doing there? Does Harold know? Felicity?”

Charlie had the decency to look guilty. 

“Well, I was in Washington and there was some suspicious activity. The next thing I know they had found me. I freaked and fled here to wait it out. My Russian is rusty but I made it look like I was a British tourist.”

“And Felicity and Harold?” 

“I talked to Harold, but I’ve been dodging Felicity. I don't want to freak her out anymore than she is with this whole Oliver and Walter thing.”

Bond listened to the names being thrown around so casually. He wondered if they were all fake or did Q’s trust him enough to know something about his life.                

"Would you like to catch something to eat before we part ways Charlie?" Bond asked half because he wanted to learn more about the woman and half because he wanted to see how much he could dig up on Q.

"No she would not," Q said huffily. 

The quartermaster was starting to lose his cool, Bond could tell. Bond was digging too deep, find out too much about him. That must not have sat well with their allusive and secretive quartermaster. The small idea of trust Bond thought Q might have had for him flew out the proverbial window.

"Q you're acting like you're my father," Charlie laughed anyway and was smirking evilly.

"Bond go to your train. Charlie we'll talk more later," Q said crisply. 

Bond heard him shuffle to turn off the connection. 

"Love you Q," Charlie said. She was said it sincerely but still looked as though she was tutoring some poor soul. "You're the Donna to my Doctor." 

There was silence on the other end and Bond wondered if Q had hung up already. 

"Q."

"Charlie," Q said, and Bond smirked because it was the closest thing Bond had ever heard the Quartermaster had come to whine. He could practically hear the 'not in front of my friends' that should be tacked onto the end.

"Quil-."

"You're the McCoy to my Kirk." 

The communication clicked off the second the sentence was out and it left Bond smirking even wider.

Charlie was smiling fondly and gave Bond a wink. They were siblings, he was even more sure of it now. 

"Well, I better listen to Q," Charlie said happily. "I've completed my quest for now and I really don't want to push my luck. Q is terrifying when he wants to be."

"So he's told me."

"Did he give you the earl gray and pajamas line? We worked hard on that one. Felicity says it's still needs a bit of work and Harold thought we were becoming cyber terrorist but I think it's perfect. Just the right mixture of condescension, gloating, and truth."

Bond was beginning to get overwhelmed with this new picture of Q he was gathering. The one that involved the witty and unflappable quartermaster huddled around a computer with other people seriously debating his opening line and watching Dr. Who and Star Trek on the weekends and getting embarrassed when his sister tried to get him to tell her he loves her.   

Charlie nodded at him as though she could see his struggle but didn’t comment.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Bond," she said instead. 

"As was you, Charlie. Any last tidbits on our dear Quartermaster before we part?" Bond asked, deciding he had nothing to lose.

"That line about the pajamas and tea?" She said slowly.

“Yes?”

"Well, he's not the only one that applies to."

It was dark and vague and threatening, but Bond understood what she meant. Watch over him, she was saying, protect him. Because there would be price to pay if he didn't. 

Bond's face slipped into his agent mask and he nodded. Charlie scanned him for a moment before finding what she was looking for and nodded. She grinned one last time before turning on her heel.

"Agent Rowling out," she said, throwing up the Vulcan salute, and walking away. 

Bond watched her before smirking and turning away. He had a train to catch.      

**Author's Note:**

> lol found this in the deep recessives of my old google drive. still not the back story


End file.
